The Novels of Alexander the Great

by Mary Renault

  As I heard this, waving my mistress’s peacock fan, I recalled my father’s birthday feast, the last of his life; the guests threading up the mountain and coming in through the gatehouse, the grooms taking their horses; my father with me beside him, welcoming them at the door. One man had towered over the others, and looked so much a warrior that even to me he did not seem old. He was handsome, with all his teeth still perfect, and had tossed me up like a baby, making me laugh. Had he not been called Darius? But one king or another, I thought as I waved the fan, what is that to me?

  Soon all this was stale news, and they were talking about the west. There were barbarians there whom I had heard my father speak of, red-haired savages who painted themselves blue; they lived north of the Greeks, a tribe called Macedonians. First they had come raiding; then they had had the impudence to declare war, and the coastal satraps were arming. But the news now was that not long after King Arses’ death, their own King had been killed, at some public spectacle where, in their barbarous way, he had walked about unguarded. His heir was only a young lad, so there was no more need to be concerned about them.

  My life went by in the small duties of the harem, making beds, carrying trays, mixing sorbets of mountain snow and citron, painting my mistress’s finger-ends, and being petted by the girls; Datis had only one wife, but three young concubines, who were kind to me, knowing the master had no taste for boys. But if ever I waited on them, my mistress would clip my ear.

  Soon I was let out on little errands, to buy henna and kohl and herbs for the clothes-chests, and such things beneath the chief eunuch’s dignity; and would see other eunuchs shopping too. Some were like him, soft and fat with breasts like women’s, and after seeing one, though I was growing quickly, I would eat less. Others were shriveled and shrill like careworn crones. But a few stood tall and straight, with some look of pride in themselves; I used to wonder what their secret was.

  It was summer; the orange trees in the women’s court scented the air, mixed with perfumed sweat from the girls, as they sat dabbling their fingers at the rim of the fishpool. My mistress had bought me a little harp, to hold on the knee, and bade one of the girls teach me to tune it. I was singing, when the chief eunuch rushed in, wheezing with haste and quivering all over. He was bursting with news, but paused to mop his brow and complain about the heat, making them wait. One could see it was a great day.

  “Madam,” he said, “Bagoas the Vizier is dead!”

  The courtyard twittered like a roost of starlings. My mistress waved her plump hand for quiet. “But how? Don’t you know anything more?”

  “Indeed, madam.” He mopped his brow again, till she invited him to sit. He looked round from his cushion like a market storyteller. “It is common talk at the Palace, having been witnessed by many, as you shall hear. You are aware, madam, I know where to ask; if it can be known, it comes to me. It appears that yesterday the King received Bagoas in audience. With men of such rank, of course, only the choicest wine is offered. It was brought in, poured already into cups of inlaid gold. The King took the royal one, Bagoas the other, and the Vizier waited for the King to drink. For some time he held his wine-cup, speaking of some slight matter and watching Bagoas’ face; then he made to drink; then he lowered the cup again, watching still. He then said thus: ‘Bagoas, you have been the faithful servant of three kings. Such a man should be marked with honor. Here is my own cup for you to pledge me in; I will drink from yours.’ The chamberlain brought it to Bagoas, and brought the other to the King.

  “I was told, by one who did me the honor to confide in me, that the face of the Vizier changed to the color of pale river-mud. The King drank; and there was a stillness. ‘Bagoas,’ he said, ‘I have drunk; I am waiting for you to pledge me.’ At this, Bagoas laid hand on heart, fetched his breath short, and prayed the King to pardon him; he had been taken faint, and begged leave to withdraw. But the King said, ‘Sit, Vizier; the wine is your best medicine.’ He sat, for it seemed his knees failed beneath him; and the cup shook in his hand, so that the wine began to spill. Then the King leaned forward in his chair, raising his voice for all to hear. ‘Drink your wine, Bagoas. For I tell you this and I do not lie; whatever is in that cup, it will be better for you to drink it.’

  “At this he drank; and when he would have risen, the Royal Guard stood round him with pointed spears. The King waited till the poison had taken hold, before retiring and leaving them to watch him die. I am told he was an hour about it.”

  There was a great deal of exclaiming, like coins in the storyteller’s hat. The mistress asked who it was that warned the King. The chief eunuch looked sly, and dropped his voice. “The Royal Cupbearer has been given a robe of honor. Madam, who knows? Some say the King himself cast his eye on the fate of Ochos; that when the cups were changed, the Vizier read his face, but could do nothing. Let the hand of discretion cover the wise mouth.”

  So, then, divine Mithra, Avenger of Honor, had kept his day. The traitor had died by treachery, just as he ought. But the time of gods is not like the time of men. My namesake had died, as my father promised me; but he had died too late for me, and for all the sons of my sons.

  2

  TWO YEARS I SERVED the harem, suffering nothing much worse than a tedium I wondered, sometimes, I did not die of. I grew taller, and twice had to have new clothes. Yet my growth had slowed. They had said at home I would be as tall as my father; but the gelding must have given some shock that changed me. I am a little better than small, and all my life have kept the shape of a boy.

  Nonetheless, I used to hear in the bazaar praise of my beauty. Sometimes a man would speak to me, but I turned away; he would not speak, I thought, if he knew I was a slave. Such was still my simplicity. I was only glad to escape the women’s chatter, see the life of the bazaar, and take the air.

  Presently my master also gave me errands, taking notes to the jewelers of his new stock, and so on. I used to dread being sent to the royal workshops, though Datis seemed to think he was giving me a treat. The workmen were all slaves, chiefly Greeks, who were prized for skill. Of course they were all branded in the face; but as punishment, or to stop their getting away, most of them had had a foot off, or sometimes both. Some needed both hands and feet, if they used a burin-wheel for carving gems; and these, lest they should slip off untraced, had had their noses taken. I would look anywhere but at them; till I saw the jeweler watching me, supposing me in search of something to steal.

  I had been taught at home that after cowardice and the Lie, the worst disgrace for a gentleman was to trade. Selling was not to be thought of; one lost face even by buying, one should live off one’s own land. Even my mother’s mirror, which had a winged boy engraved on it and had come all the way from Ionia, had been in her dowry. No matter how often I fetched merchandise, I never ceased to feel the shame. It is a true saying, that men don’t know till too late when they have been well off.

  It was a bad year for the jewelers. The King had gone to war, leaving the Upper City dead as a tomb. The young King of Macedon had crossed to Asia, and was taking all the Greek cities there from Persian rule. He was not much more than twenty; it had seemed just a matter for the coastal satraps. But he had beaten their forces and crossed the Granikos, and was now thought as bad to reckon with as his father.

  It was said he had no wife; that he took no household with him; only his men, like a mere robber or bandit. But thus he got about very fast, even through mountain land unknown to him. From pride he wore glittering arms, to be singled out in battle. Many tales were told of him, which I leave out, since those that were true are known by all the world, while of the false we have enough. At all events, he had already done all his father had intended, and still did not seem content.

  The King, therefore, had mustered a royal army, and gone himself to meet him. Since the King of Kings did not travel naked to war like a young western raider, he had taken the court and Household, with its stewards and chamberlains and eunuchs; also the Harem, with the Queen Mothe
r, the Queen, the princesses, and the little prince, and their own attendants, their eunuchs and hairdressers and women of the wardrobe and all the rest. The Queen, who was said to be of surpassing beauty, had always brought the jewelers good trade.

  The King’s attendant lords had also taken their women, their wives and often their concubines, lest the war should last some time. So, in Susa, only such people were buying jewelry, as are content with chippings stuck in clay.

  The mistress had no new dress that spring, and was sharp with us all for days; the prettiest of the concubines had a new veil, which for a week made life unbearable. The chief eunuch had less shopping-money; the mistress was skimped with sweets, the slaves with food. My only comfort was to feel my slim waist, and look at the chief eunuch.

  If no thicker, I was growing taller. Though I had again outgrown my clothes, I expected to go on wearing them. But to my surprise, I got a new suit from the master; tunic, trousers and sash, and an outer coat with wide sleeves. The sash even had gold thread in it. They were so pretty that I stooped over the pool to see myself, and was not displeased.

  The same day, soon after noon, the master summoned me to his business room. I remember finding it strange that he did not look at me. He wrote a few words and sealed the paper, saying, “Take this to Obares the master jeweler. Go straight there, don’t loiter in the bazaar.” He looked at his fingernails, then back to me. “He is my best customer; so take good care to be civil.”

  These words surprised me. “Sir,” I said, “I have never been uncivil to a customer. Does anyone say I have?”

  “Oh, tut, no,” he said, fidgeting with a tray of loose turquoises. “I am only telling you to be civil to Obares.”

  Even then, I walked to the house thinking no more than that he had some worry about the man’s goodwill. The captain who took me from my home, and what he did to me, was smothered up with other things in my mind; when I woke crying in the night, it was mostly from a dream of my father’s noseless face, shouting aloud. Without thought of harm I went to the shop of Obares, a stocky Babylonian with a black bush of beard. He glanced at the note, and led me straight through to the inner room, as if I were expecting it.

  I hardly remember the rest, except his stink, which I can recall today, and that, after, he gave me a bit of silver for myself. I gave it to a leper in the marketplace, who took it on a palm without thumb or fingers, and wished me the blessing of long life.

  I thought of the monkey with green fur, carried away by a man with a cruel face, who’d said he was going to train it. It came to me that perhaps I had been sent on approval to a buyer. I went to the gutter and vomited my heart out. No one took notice. Damp with cold sweat, I returned to my master’s house.

  Whether or not Obares would have been a buyer, my master was not a seller. It suited him far better to be doing Obares favors. I was lent to him twice a week.

  I doubt my master ever called himself what he was. He just obliged a good customer. Then a friend of Obares heard, and must be obliged for his sake. Not being in the trade, he paid in coin; and he passed the good word on. Before long, I was sent out most afternoons.

  At twelve years old, it takes too perfect a despair to die alone. I thought of it often; I had dreamed of my father without his nose, and instead of the traitor’s name he shouted mine. But Susa has not walls high enough to leap from; there was nothing else with which I could make sure. As for running away, I had for example the leg-stumps of the royal jeweler’s slaves.

  I went, therefore, to my clients as I was told. Some were better than Obares, some much worse. I can yet feel the cold sinking of my heart, as I walked to some house unknown before; and how, when one required of me something not fit to be described, I remembered my father, no longer a noseless mask, but standing on the night of his birthday feast while by torchlight our warriors did the sword-dance. To honor his spirit, I struck the man and called him what he deserved.

  My master did not beat me with the leaded whip he used upon the Nubian porter, for fear of spoiling me; but the cane cut hard. While it still stung, I was sent back to beg pardon and make amends.

  This life I led for rather more than a year, seeing no escape till I should be too old. My mistress did not know of it, and I conspired to deceive her; I had always some tale for her of my day’s business. She had more decency than her husband, and would have been outraged, but she had no power to save me. If she knew the truth, the house would be in an uproar, till for the sake of peace he would sell me for the best price I’d fetch. When I thought of the bidders, I kept the hand of discretion before my mouth.

  Whenever I passed through the bazaar, I imagined people saying, “There goes Datis’ whore.” Yet I had to bring back some news, to satisfy my mistress. The rumors were running, ahead of truth, that the King had fought a great battle with Alexander, at Issos by the sea, and lost, escaping with his bare life on horseback, leaving his chariot and his arms. Well, he got away, I thought; there are some of us would think that luck enough.

  As proper news came in by the Royal Road, we learned that the Harem had been taken, with the Queen Mother, the Queen, her daughters and her son. I pitied them; I had good cause to know their fate. The girls’ screams rang in my ears; I pictured the young boy flung upon the spears, as I would have been but for one man’s greed. However, never having seen these ladies, and being bound for the house of someone I knew too well, I kept some pity for myself.

  Later it was put about, by someone who swore it came straight from Kilikia, that Alexander had set up the royal women in their own pavilion, untouched by man, with their household to serve them, and that even the boy was still alive. This tale was laughed at, for everyone knew that no one behaves like that in war, let alone western barbarians.

  The King had fallen back on Babylon, and wintered there. But it grows hot in spring; without much state he returned to Susa, to rest from his labors, while his satraps mustered another army. I was kept at work, and could not see the royal cavalcade, which, like the boy I still partly was, I had set some store by. It seemed that Alexander had not marched inland where he had been expected, but had had the folly to sit down before Tyre, an island stronghold which would not fall in ten years. While he kept up this pastime, the King could take his ease.

  Now that the court was back, even though without the Queen, I hoped the jewel trade would prosper; then perhaps I might be let off my trade, to stay and serve the harem. Once I had thought it tedious; it beckoned now like a palm grove in the desert.

  You might suppose by now I would be reconciled. But ten years are ten years, though one has left them behind for three. Far off on the mountain, I could still discern the ruins of my home.

  There were clients from whom, if I had flattered them, I could have had good money I need not have shown my master. I could sooner have made a meal off camel-dung; yet some were drawn by my sullenness, and would court me to win a smile. Others would hurt me in various ways, but I divined they would do so in any case, and servility would encourage them. The worst, who left me covered in weals, my master denied me to, not from pity but because he damaged the goods. With others I learned resources. I did not refuse a small piece of silver, but used it to buy kif. Taking it seldom, I could smoke myself silly beforehand. That is why to this day the mere smell of it makes me sick.

  Some, in their way, were kind. With these, it seemed that honor demanded a return. I would try to please them, since I had nothing else to give; and they were glad to teach me how to do it better. Thus I learned the beginnings of art.

  There was a carpet-seller who, when he had done, would treat me like a guest, seat me by him on the divan, give me wine and talk to me. The wine I was glad of, since he sometimes put me in pain; not through his fault, for he was gentle and liked to please. I kept it to myself, from pride, or what modesty was left me.

  One day he had a carpet of ten years’ work hung on the wall, to take pleasure in, he said, before it went to the buyer; a friend of the King’s, content with only
the finest. “I expect,” he said, “he may have known your father.”

  I could feel my face drain of blood and my hands grow cold. All this while, I had supposed my birth my secret, my father’s name sheltered from my disgrace. Now I knew my master had had it from the dealer, and boasted of it. Why not? The Vizier, from whose vengeance I had been stolen, was disgraced and dead; it was no crime to have cheated him. I thought of our name in the mouths of all those who had had their hands on me.

  A month’s custom dulled me a little to it, but not much. There were some I would gladly have killed for knowing what they knew. When the carpet-seller sent for me again, I was thankful it was no one worse.

  I was brought into the fountain court, where he sometimes sat on cushions under a blue awning, till we went indoors. But, this time, he was not alone; another man sat with him. I stood stock-still in the open doorway, my thought, I suppose, clear on my face.

  “Come in, Bagoas,” he said. “Don’t look so startled, my dear boy. Today my friend and I ask nothing but the refreshment of beholding you, and the pleasure of hearing you sing. You have your harp, I am glad to see.”

  “Yes,” I answered. “The master said you wished it.” I had wondered if he had been charged extra.

  “Come, then. We are both fretted with the day’s business; you shall soothe our souls for us.”

  I sang to them, thinking all the while, They will be up to something later. The guest had not a merchant’s look; he was almost like my father’s friends, but smoother. Some patron of the host’s, I thought; presently I shall be served to him on a platter, dressed with green leaves.

  I was mistaken. I was asked for another song; then they chatted with me of nothings; then I was given a little present, and dismissed. No such thing had ever happened to me before. As the courtyard door closed behind me, I heard their low voices, and knew they spoke of me. Well, I thought, it had been an easy stint of work. I should hear from the other man later.